


Let The Night Whisper To Me Of Love

by 3littleowls



Series: The Detective's Antidote [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3littleowls/pseuds/3littleowls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once we dreamt that we were strangers.<br/>We wake up to find that we were dear to each other.</p><p>-Rabindranath Tagore</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let The Night Whisper To Me Of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alutiv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alutiv/gifts).



> AU timeframe: This is the first night they spend together immediately after the kitchen scene in _Revival_.

Sherlock shifted in the strange bed. He had rested for an hour but had awoken unsettled. The sheets scratched; the mattress was too firm and he was wearing restricting boxers. The necessity of the loaned pants reminded him of messing his own like a teenager, followed by embarrassing tears and finally, kindness from the man sleeping at his side, unruffled by Sherlock’s humiliating display.

Darin’s hand, resting gently on his hip, twitched. His breathing changed tempo. “Okay?” He asked, voice rough from sleep.

“I’m not accustomed to sleeping with someone.”

“Me neither.”

Sherlock looked over at him in the dark. “But you’ve had other lovers.” 

“I didn’t make a habit of staying the night.” Darin yawned. “If you’re uncomfortable, there’s the sofa again.”

Sherlock made no move to leave. “So you didn’t _sleep_ with the people you’ve slept with?” 

“Not my casual partners. It led to misunderstandings. It’s rather intimate, don’t you think?”

Sherlock swallowed hard. “So, you mean…”

“Nothing is casual about you,” Darin chuckled. He pillowed his head on Sherlock’s chest.

“Oh,” Sherlock whispered, wide-eyed, at the ceiling. 

It _was_ intimate- being surrounded by another person whilst vulnerable in repose. He draped his arm around Darin’s shoulder. His warm exhales ghosted over Sherlock's skin. Despite its other flaws, when he considered the company, it was quite a fine bed.

**Author's Note:**

> For my friend and beta alutiv, the gorgeous queen of the 221b ficlet.
> 
> Many thanks to Anarfea for betaing and beaubete for title brainstorming.
> 
> This was inspired by lines from the poem _Stray Birds_ by Rabindranath Tagore. I'm quite taken with it.


End file.
